W REATH'S Tune .

What must it be to dwell above
At God's right hand, where Jesus reign
Since the sweet earnest of his love
O'erwhelms us on these dreary plains!
No heart can think, no tongue explain,
What bliss it is with Christ to reign!

When sin no more obstructs our sight,
When sorrow pains our hearts no more
How shall we view the prince of light,
And all his works of grace explore!
What heights and depths of love divine
Will there thro' endless ages shine!

'Tis heav'n on earth to hear him say,
When pow'r attends the gospel sound,
Listen sinner, cast thy doubts away,
Thou soon shalt be with glory crown'd;
And that bright crown shall never fade,
That shine immortal on thy head.

That oh, what music must it be
To hear his kind inviting voice
Sound from the throne to welcome me,
While all the heav'nly hosts rejoice
To see a soul redeem'd from hell,
And rais'd, with God and saints to dwell!

Well, he has fix'd the happy day
When the last tears will wet our eyes,
The hand of God shall wipe those tears away,
And fill us with divine surprise
To hear his voice, and see his face,
And feel his infinite embrace!

This is the heav'n I long to know;
For this, with patience, I would wait,
Till wean'd from earth, and all below,
Will mount to my celestial seat,
And wave my palm, and wear my crown,
And with the elders, cast them down.